


Dim the Lights (You Can Guess the Rest)

by nellywrites



Category: Glee
Genre: Episode Tag, Lights Out, M/M, aeroblaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 22:18:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nellywrites/pseuds/nellywrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McKinley’s student body is adrift without Coach Sue in the aftermath of the shooting. So Nightbird goes undercover to gather intel, and Blaine makes a new friend. 4x20 reaction fic, sort of. AKA Aeroblaine. (I just wanted an excuse to write about Blaine and hot guy from the aerobics class)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dim the Lights (You Can Guess the Rest)

Blaine supposes he should be glad for it, because the shooting incident got rid of Sue Sylvester once and for all, and he and Sam didn’t even have to get their hands dirty. Except he can never be glad for what they all went through in that choir room, fake or not. It changed them. Blaine still jumps at the sound of a door slamming too hard or a car backfiring. It keeps him up at night and the more he thinks about it, the more he analyzes it, the less sense it makes.

Coach Sylvester is insane, but bringing a gun to school seems too much, even for her. And really, Blaine just doesn’t buy that a woman like her doesn’t know how to properly handle a gun. Some would attribute the whole thing to karma, say she had it coming, but Blaine vowed to fight injustice, right all wrong and preserve truth, justice and peace in the halls of McKinley High. He’s not interested in punishing her for something she didn’t do.

And, well, Coach Roz has given new meaning to the phrase ‘stick with the devil you know.’

At the moment, paying a visit to Coach Sue at her new job is their best bet. Sam wanted Nightbird and Blond Chameleon to play a Good Cop/Bad Cop routine on Becky to see if they could get her to crack, but she’s fiercer than the both of them combined. Hence why Blaine is pulling up in front of the 23 Hour Fitness three blocks down from the Lima Bean, wearing bright green short shorts and leg warmers.

Sometimes he fears he’s taking this secret identity thing too seriously. He catches his reflection in the glass windows as he walks into the building and shakes his head. It was only a matter of time before the McKinley Crazy got to him.

**

Blaine’s in the middle of sweet-talking the receptionist into let him into Coach Sylvester’s fully-booked, no-admission-without-a-try-out, Advanced Kamikaze Aerobics Class when he spots him. He’s about Blaine’s height, with reddish hair—already tousled—and fantastic thighs. He’s wearing an orange tank top that shouldn’t work with his hair color, but somehow does. Blaine tracks the guy’s movements from the corner of his eyes and it’s as if the guy can feel Blaine’s stare on him because he suddenly turns his head and catches Blaine’s eyes. A slow and playful smile inches across the guy’s handsome face.

Blaine snaps back to the receptionist, a flush crawling up the back of his neck all the way up to his ears. He’s suddenly hyperaware of his body, and he tries to casually pull his shoulders back as he leans on the countertop, resting his body weight on his arms the way he knows makes his biceps bulge out. He shifts his eyes slightly, but the guy isn’t there anymore. He’s disappeared into one of the studios at the back of the building and Blaine gives thanks to whoever’s listening that the receptionist was too busy pretending to type something into the computer to notice the embarrassing display.

She finally apologizes but she doesn’t think she can let him in the class, the trainer’s very intimidating, you see and she’s already on Ms. Sylvester’s list for knocking down a tub of her protein powder. Blaine lowers his head, looks up at her through his lashes, and says he understands. It’s just that Coach Sue was always his favorite teacher and things just haven’t been the same since she was forced out of the school after the unfortunate accident but he gets she can’t just break the rules for him.

“Well, maybe just this once,” the receptionist says and Blaine fights off a smile. “Since you know her so well.”  
Jackpot.

**

By the time Blaine makes it to Studio B, the music’s already blaring and the students have all found their places in the room. Blaine immediately scores a spot in the middle of the floor—he wants Coach Sue to see him, after all—and rolls out his mat. It’s then when he sees him again, the red-head with the great thighs, standing in front and across from Blaine. Of course. Now Blaine has to survive a murderous class with Coach Sylvester without thoroughly embarrassing himself in front of the cute guy who may or may not have flirted with him.

The guy hasn’t noticed Blaine yet, though, and neither has Sue, who has her back to the class. She zeroes in on him and soon as she turns, though.

“Young Burt Reynolds. I would say it’s nice to see you, but I don’t like to lie. What in God’s name are you doing here?”

Blaine feeds her a rehearsed speech about keeping his word of being fully committed to her team, and doing everything he can to keep her legacy alive within the Cheerios now that Coach Roz has taken over. Her training regime just isn’t up to par. Sue narrows her eyes at him, and Blaine knows she’s not buying it, but she’s not throwing him out, so he’s calling it a win.

“I’ve got my eye on you,” she says. “And you look like a butch Israeli girl in that get-up. Alright sloppy babies, stretch those necks out,” Sue yells and Blaine notes she doesn’t even need the megaphone to sound intimidating. Her eyes find Blaine’s in the room once again.

“We are not leaving this room until at least one of you passes out from the pain.”

Everyone in the room turns to look at him, certainly wondering who invited Sue’s wrath this time. A few of the women send him sympathetic looks. The red-head, though, is smirking at him. Blaine raises an eyebrow in challenge and the guy breaks out into a full smile.

Bring it on, then.

He’ll give the red-head something to smirk about.

**

Sue’s hitting them with everything she’s got, picking fast paced songs and barely letting them rest between combos. There’s a desperate energy zapping through the room. They’ve been at it for over an hour and no one has cracked yet. Over the loud thump of the bass, the sound of heavy, labored breathing can be heard. They’re exhausted, but nobody wants to be the first one to give up.

Blaine’s taking it all in stride, because somewhere along the way it stopped being about keeping up with Coach Sue and more about impressing the red-head. It’s not as easy as it looks since the red-head has his back to him, which means Blaine gets distracted by the flex of his back muscles and the swell of his ass as he bends over to touch the floor with his palms, smiling at Blaine from between his spread legs. So Blaine makes the best of the floor combos and makes sure to swivel his hips as sensuously as he can as he lifts his pelvis from the ground.

Blaine closes his eyes and gives into the movement of his hips. He drowns out Coach Sue’s voice, focusing instead on the loud bass thumping, which makes his skin vibrate. It’s so warm and he’s so worked up the sweat pools at the small of his back, his groin is damp with it. His breath quickens and his skin tingles with emerging arousal.

When Blaine opens his eyes he finds the red-head’s eyes are glued to his hips and Blaine grins in satisfaction. He can’t remember the last time he felt this desired, objectified even. This stuff used to make him feel cheap, but right now, he really likes it. And he’s not worried about analyzing all the reasons why.

Finally, a woman at the back of the studio gives up and drags herself out of the room in tears and everyone in the room breathes a sigh of relief. Sue declares them survivors and talks them through the cooling down exercises. She stops the music and every one’s out of the door before Blaine’s gotten a chance to get up from the floor.

**

When Blaine finally makes it to the locker room after his post-workout talk with Coach Sue, it’s completely empty. Blaine doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or relieved. He’s still keyed up from all the teasing and he’s considering asking whether he can use the punching bag (his gloves are in his gym bag) when a voice startles him.

“Not bad, for a first-timer.”

Blaine turns around and the red-head from class is leaning against the opposite row of lockers, arms folded across his bare chest.

“Yeah, you held your own in there pretty well. I’m impressed,” Blaine counters.  
The guy splutters a bit, a flush spreading high on his cheeks and Blaine takes pity on him.

“This isn’t my first time around Sue Sylvester’s torture block,” Blaine says. “My name’s Blaine.”

“Louis.”

Blaine brazenly takes off his tank top and uses it to mop the sweat off his face. Louis’ gaze goes straight to the dip of Blaine’s hip bones.

“So you know her, then? Ms. Sylvester, I mean. She’s intense. But she knows what she’s doing.”

“Yeah. Up until three weeks ago, she was my cheerleading coach.”

Louis’s eyes go dark and his jaw slackens as he processes the implications of what Blaine has just said.

“Oh, so you’re jailbait, then. Even better.”

“Not exactly,” Blaine says, but he can feel the heat of his blush settle in his ears. What is he doing, flirting with a stranger in the middle of a public locker room?

Louis pushes himself off the row of lockers and saunters over to where Blaine is standing, stopping only when he’s nose to nose with Blaine. They’re the same height, actually, Blaine notes. Which seems like a weird thing to notice when an attractive guy has his toned body draped all over yours. He has really nice lips, too and eyes greener than Sam’s. Under the heady scent of sweat, Blaine thinks he can detect the sweet trace of vanilla body wash.

“Listen, Blaine, first-timer or not,” Louis says, “I was thoroughly impressed by your stamina, and your enthusiasm. In fact, I think I could learn a thing or two from you.”

Blaine watches as Louis slides a hand down Blaine’s chest and sneaks a hand into the front of his shorts, low enough to tease his fingers through Blaine’s pubic hair for a second before sliding it back out, leaving behind a piece of paper, which sticks to Blaine’s sweaty skin.

“Give me call sometime, if you’re up for the job,” he whispers into crook of Blaine’s jaw and Blaine shivers at the way Louis’ breath feels on his overheated skin.

He’s still only inches away from Blaine’s face and Blaine stops thinking and lunges forward, tongue first, hands coming up to cradle Louis’s face, tilting it just so he can kiss harder, dirtier. This isn’t the moment for tenderness. Louis fights him for control for a moment before he succumbs and goes slack, his hands dipping into the back of Blaine’s shorts to grip at his bare ass.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Louis says into Blaine’s mouth.

A locker door slams closed next door, startling them apart. The sound of their panting echoes across the empty locker room.

“My uh,” Louis starts, voice still raspy. “My place is nearby. What do you say we postpone the shower and you give me a hands on demonstration of how you got so good at those squat thrusts? My shower has six different body jets.”

Blaine’s nodding before his brain has a chance to catch up and make him employ things like reason.

“Can’t say no to body jets, can I?”

Blaine might not be the type of guy who picks up others guys in gym locker rooms, but that’s okay, because it turns out, Nightbird totally is.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from Roxy Music's "Love is the Drug"


End file.
